


mirror mirror on the wall

by undodgedbullet



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Breathplay, Mirror Sex, Other, Twelve in Missy's corset, no one read this thanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 08:33:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18246209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undodgedbullet/pseuds/undodgedbullet
Summary: Missy and the Doctor get creative with a corset and a mirror.





	mirror mirror on the wall

The mirror is against a wall in the vault, across from a few chairs and the piano, tall enough that someone can see their entire body when they stand in front of it. It’s the newest addition to the prison; Missy had requested it a while ago and it’s one of the few things she’s asked for that she actually uses.

 

She stands in front of it now, in a state of undress compared to what she usually wears. Her hair is down, she has a skirt and an unbuttoned blouse on, and if anyone else besides her oldest friend was here then she wouldn’t let them see her like this, but it’s just the Doctor. The Doctor, who she’s comfortable enough with to let her guard down when they’re together, who she trusts more than anyone in the universe. She begins to do up the buttons of her shirt and looks back over her shoulder at him.

 

“Can you pass me my corset, dear?”

 

She turns back to face forward, watching him in the mirror as he reaches over to it. She doesn’t miss the way his fingers delicately trail over it for a few seconds before he takes it and brings it over to her. He hands it to her and then turns to sit back down but she grabs his wrist before he can step away.

 

“What?” he asks after a moment. She looks down at the corset she’s holding and then back up at him, eyes glinting with a mischievous light. She smiles, like she knows something he doesn’t.

 

“Well, it’s just an idea, but...” she begins casually, gently pulling him back towards her. “I think I’d much prefer this on you right now.”

 

The Doctor is silent for a few seconds, then audibly swallows. His voice is weak when he asks, “Me?”

 

“Yes, you.” She can tell he’s thinking about it and his expression makes it clear he doesn’t completely hate the idea. She knows what his answer will be but she asks, “Would you like that?”

 

“Yes.” He clears his throat. “Yes, Missy.”

 

She makes a sound of affirmation, glancing down at his shirt. He understands immediately and begins taking it off, tossing it to the floor. He goes to take the corset from her again but she shakes her head, moving to put it on him herself. Her fingertips are soft against his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, like they know exactly where to touch, exactly where he’s the most sensitive. He tries to hold back a shiver as she leans forward to press a kiss to his shoulder, his eyes shutting on their own accord while she repeats the action a few more times before she pulls away so she can begin to lace it up.

 

He says nothing, the overwhelmingness of how close they are to each other and what they’re doing taking over all of his senses. The methodical, deliberate way Missy ties the corset does help to calm him but suddenly her lips are by his ear as she murmurs, “Open your eyes.” He obeys and meets his eyes in the mirror, unable to miss the way his cheeks are flushed and lips are parted. He looks down to the corset and then to Missy, who is watching him with a heavy gaze. “How does it look, Doctor?”

 

“It looks...” He doesn’t know what she wants him to say so he settles on the truth. “It looks good.”

 

She nods and gives the laces a sharp tug that makes him gasp as he finds the corset’s new tightness makes it difficult for him to breathe. It’s not too bad, he still has most of his air, but sees his eyes flutter momentarily and he glances at Missy, who seems to be just as affected by this as he is. She meets his gaze and pulls even tighter, watching as he struggles to take in a full breath.

 

“I agree. I think it looks _very_ good,” she says, slowly running her hand up the Doctor’s body, up his arm to his shoulder, across his chest, to his neck. She doesn’t put any pressure but he stills all the same, watching his reaction to her touch in the mirror. The corset is different than when she’s taking his breath by her hand around his throat; it’s still restricting but in a different, equally exhilarating, equally freeing way. “And how does it _feel?_ ”

 

“Like I’d be about to shatter if it wasn’t for this holding me together,” he answers, seeming to be entranced by the picture he sees in front of him.

 

“Seems like you like it.” Missy’s reflection smirks at him as her other hand brushes against the front of his trousers and he can’t help the noise he makes. “Well, more than like.”

 

He his hips push forward on their own accord, searching for more of her touch, which she grants him for a moment before pulling away. “Missy—” he begins in protest, noticing how breathless he is, much his chest is heaving, just from her barely touching him. His eyes trail up and he sees the want radiating through him, the way his eyebrows are furrowed and he looks completely wrecked. He glances at Missy and finds her gaze on him, looking quite pleased with herself. He quickly looks away; of course she’s noticed him watching himself.

 

“This is what I get to see,” she says, beginning to undo the buttons of his trousers, her voice low and deliberate. “Whenever I’m with you. I get to see you like this, all gorgeous just for me. I’d keep you like this forever if I could.”

 

The Doctor reaches out to her, holding on tightly because he feels like he’d be on the floor otherwise. Her hand on him is scorching, hot and burning with every second it touches him. He wants to close his eyes; the heat and the way the corset restricts him is all so good, _too_ good, but he forces himself to keep them open, watching as his lips gasp out her name and a, “ _Please_.”

 

She leans in to press her mouth to his neck, biting and kissing everywhere she can reach. Normally he’d protest, tell her that she can’t leave any evidence where anyone will be able to notice because he has students to teach and he needs to seem at least slightly professional, but she doesn’t hear any complaints coming from him right now so she takes that as permission to make as many marks on his skin as she likes. The sounds he’s making only spur her on, wanting to claim him for all to see. She may be the one imprisoned but they both know she owns him just as much as he owns her.

 

“Do you want it tighter?” she asks him once she’s satisfied with the marks she’s made on him. He’s nodding before he realizes he’s even doing so. She smirks and moves to take the laces of the corset as she watches his reaction, the way all the remaining air he had leaves his body, the way he bites his lip at the pleasure coursing through him. “Doctor,” she begins, then cuts herself off, not knowing what she had even been intending to say, not being able to think straight at the sight before her. She moves her hand to the back of his neck and pushes his head towards her, meeting his lips in a hard kiss. He can’t get enough air to kiss her back but Missy doesn’t seem to care, pulling away after a moment to hastily get rid of her skirt.

 

“ _Missy_ ,” the Doctor says, his voice a whisper because that’s all he can manage right now, his entire body is trembling with how much he needs her. He can see how his chest moves while he tries to breathe in air that he doesn’t have and he can’t wait any longer, he needs her, he’s pretty sure he has never needed anything as much as he needs this right now. She thankfully doesn’t seem to have any intentions of drawing this out, instead quickly pulling him over to the piano and pushing him down onto the bench. She straddles him and takes him in hand, watching as he arches up in response.

 

He’s beginning to feel lightheaded, from both the lack of oxygen he’s getting and the desire that’s coursing through him. He holds onto her waist with shaking hands and in the next few seconds he’s entering her, the feeling more intense than he can recall. She starts off with slow movements and he catches their reflection again over her shoulder and he’s so overwhelmed he could cry.

 

“I can feel it. The corset. I can feel it pressed against my body; your skin is so soft but this is hard and restricting. If I had known it’d get you _this_ riled up, I’d have put it on you ages ago. Perhaps I should have you wear it all the time since you like it so much. I could keep you here forever like this, pretty and so desperate for me that you couldn’t bear it.” She quickens the pace, her voice strained as she continues. “I’d keep it tied extra tight for you. You don’t need to breathe, especially not when I’m here, do you? Because the only thing you need is your Mistress, isn’t that right? _Isn’t that right, Doctor?_ ”

 

“Yes,” the Doctor gasps out. Everything around him is spinning but she somehow is the one thing that’s keeping him grounded. He can’t look away from the mirror, his eyes locked onto his own; he’d be embarrassed about how far gone he looks if he could think straight. “Yes, that’s right, you’re right, _please, Missy_.”

 

She moves faster, harder, not because she’s taking pity on him but because she needs it as much as he does. She gets louder and less controlled and he realizes she’s going over the edge. He follows seconds later, watching his eyes close before everything goes black.

 

When he opens his eyes again, he’s on his back and his chest is sore but he can now freely take in air. He sits up and glances over at Missy, who looks up as he stirs.

 

“Back with us?” she asks, her tone teasing as she gives him a soft smile. He nods and she laughs, getting up to sit next to him. “How was that? Are you all right?”

 

“I’m fine, just tired.” He gives her a smile of her own and reaches up to pull her to him so she’s also laying down. She shifts to make herself more comfortable and he kisses her forehead before closing his eyes, content.


End file.
